


The Missing by AK

by m_a_archive_owner



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_a_archive_owner/pseuds/m_a_archive_owner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan's stream of consciousness after the events</p><p>Note from mods: this story was originally archived at www.masterapprentice.org, which has closed due to code rot. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2014. The m_a list was mailed in December 2013 as well as posted to a number of LJ and Dreamwidth communities about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on collection profile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Missing by AK

**Author's Note:**

> I should say straight out that when it comes to

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##  The Missing 

###  by AK (CalmJedi@hotmail.com) 

Archive: anywhere, just please keep my name, email address,  
author's notes and disclaimer attached.

Category: Romance, Angst, POV = Obi-Wan

Rating: NC-17

Warning: This fanfic is slash. It contains reasonably explicit  
m/m sex and masturbation. If that bothers you, don't read it.  
But you're missing out. 8->

Spoilers: This is set post-PM and if you haven't seen the  
movie, this story will probably ruin it for you.

Summary: Obi-Wan's stream of consciousness after the events  
shown in TPM.

Feedback: yes, please!!

Disclaimer: I'm not making any money from this story. These  
characters belong to George Lucas and Lucasfilm. And I'll sic  
my precocious Padawan learner on anyone who tries to sue.

Author's Notes: I should say straight out that when it comes to  
fanfic, I am more of a reader than a writer. If I could have  
found myself some Obi-Wan/Qui-Gon slash in those first two  
weeks after TPM opened, this thing would never have been  
written. I was longing so desperately for some nice slashing of  
the beautiful relationship between them _sigh_ . . . that  
I resorted to writing my own.

Great thanks be to Renee and Chad for beta-reading this thing  
and thus being the coolest people alive. And thanks to my  
Padawan for the insights on Jedi sex. I love you babe.

  


"But I can't go on without you," Obi-Wan said in his dream, and  
awoke with the words on his lips.

Anakin had rolled over, that was why he had been awakened.  
Obi-Wan sighed and turned onto his side.

Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan missed him. More than anything. More, even,  
than he had thought he would. He spoke to Qui-Gon in his dreams  
and relived watching Qui-Gon die in his nightmares. Relived  
watching the black and red face of the Sith warrior, yellow  
eyes aglow, bearing down on Qui-Gon with his cruelly  
double-bladed red lightsaber. Relived watching said lightsaber  
stab into the Jedi Master, cauterizing his flesh and burning  
the life from him.

Obi-Wan rose silently, so as not to awaken his apprentice. He  
went into the small adjoining room where there was a basin  
filled with cold, clean water. In quick, repetitious gestures,  
he splashed some on his face. Anakin had informed him, in a  
conversational way, that he sometimes screamed in his sleep.  
Obi-Wan hadn't known how much to tell his young Padawan about  
what he and Qui-Gon had shared. He had decided to reveal  
nothing. He was the Master now, and revealing or concealing  
truths was his prerogative.

At its most basic level, their bond had been that of Jedi  
master and apprentice. A friendship; Qui-Gon was his closest,  
most intimate friend. Qui-Gon had also served as a parental  
figure, guiding his apprentice. Yet the bond between Qui-Gon  
and himself had been deeper, stronger, more special--love.

They were quite different, but were perfect for each other.  
Their contrasting personalities balanced out well. The truth  
was, Obi-Wan wasn't sure now if he wanted to live without his  
Master in his life, or even if he could.

Stop it, he told himself sharply. This is getting you nowhere.  
Get back to the task at hand. The task at hand, Obi-Wan  
thought, turning away from the basin, was fulfilling his  
promise. His last promise to Qui-Gon. Training Anakin.

I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight, Qui-Gon had told  
him. He could even hear those words in his mind. Qui-Gon's  
voice was deep and commanding, but his tones were kind, and he  
generally spoke softly.

I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight. But Master, how  
can I without you? Qui-Gon had been so wise, known so  
much...Obi-Wan knew he was competent to train the boy, but he  
did not feel up to the task. He might be a Jedi Knight and  
Anakin's Master, but he did not feel like one at the moment.  
 _The moment. The moment is important. Qui-Gon was always_  
concentrating on the moment. Obi-Wan absently reached up  
and fingered the place behind his ear where he had severed his  
Padawan's braid. He had done it over a month ago, staring into  
the mirror, cutting carefully. He had burned the hair.

Losing his braid. Losing his apprenticeship, losing his Master.  
Losing Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon Jinn. Even his name was beautiful. Obi-Wan closed his  
eyes, conjuring up the countenance of his former master.  
Master, and so much more. The wide, clear dark blue eyes, the  
longish brown-grey hair and gentle smile. So beautiful, and  
noble. Obi-Wan slumped against the wall as his tears began to  
spill over his cheeks.

The Jedi recalled the last time they had made love. It was the  
early morning of the day Qui-Gon was killed. Interesting,  
Obi-Wan thought, that Qui-Gon had chosen that particular  
morning...like most Jedi, they did not engage in sexual  
gratification frequently or promiscuously. They indulged only  
occasionally, as their full lives left little time for other  
diversions, and Obi-Wan thought it odd that that morning had  
been one of those occasions. Impossible that Qui-Gon could have  
foreseen his own death, and yet, Qui-Gon himself had always  
insisted that there were no coincidences. _Nothing happens by_  
accident.

 

 

Obi-Wan had been lying in bed, drowsing, until his Master  
stirred and rose. Following Qui-Gon's motions with his eyes,  
Obi-Wan stretched and sat up, feeling the Force flow peacefully  
through him.

"Go back to sleep, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon had told him softly. "It's  
still early yet."

Obi-Wan did not voice the protest that rose immediately to his  
lips, but obediently lay back down and closed his eyes.  
Wondering if Qui-Gon would return, he drifted in and out of  
sleep. After a few minutes, Obi-Wan felt the sleep-couch sink  
with the return of his Master. Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed and  
did not move, but he could not ignore his Master's gentle  
fingers twisting in his hair. Qui-Gon drew closer to his  
apprentice, nestling against him. Obi-Wan smiled, feeling his  
cock harden in anticipation. He opened his eyes when the Master  
began to tease his nipples with his tongue and lips. Obi-Wan  
writhed under the delicious examination of his Master's tongue;  
he had very sensitive skin.

After a few moments, Obi-Wan could take no more. His nipples  
were stiff with the stimulation and his cock was beginning to  
ache with need. He suddenly rolled Qui-Gon onto his back and  
settled himself on top of his Master. Obi-Wan delighted in the  
sensation of Qui-Gon's cock pressing and throbbing against his  
own. He leaned over his Master, who was merely lying still,  
watching him. Obi-Wan stared into Qui-Gon's eyes as he rested  
his crossed arms on his Master's chest.

For several minutes they lay like that, reveling in the feel of  
each other.

As the Master brought his hands up to run his fingers lightly  
through his apprentice's short light hair, he leaned in and  
kissed Obi-Wan's lips. Obi-Wan twisted atop him, removing the  
loose garment he always wore to bed. When he lay naked atop his  
Master, Qui-Gon stopped him. The older man had always been far  
more inclined than he was to proceed with sex slowly. It was  
not his Master's age so much as it was his personality.

Qui-Gon eased out from under him, leaving Obi-Wan lying flat on  
his back, completely naked. Obi-Wan stared at his Master as  
Qui-Gon gazed at him, into his eyes lovingly and appraisingly  
along his apprentice's slim, hard young body. Obi-Wan arched a  
perfect eyebrow but lay without moving, unembarrassed by his  
Master's stare. He felt utterly comfortable with this man.

After a moment Qui-Gon smiled at him. Kneeling over his  
apprentice, he began to kiss his body. His thighs, his hands,  
legs, nipples, balls, just gentle, persuasive kisses. Qui-Gon's  
short, neatly trimmed beard was rough but soft enough to  
tickle. At last he took Obi-Wan's cock into his mouth, rolling  
the head gently between his lips, brushing it ever so carefully  
with his teeth. Obi-Wan moaned, thrusting his hips slightly  
upwards.

When his lust was nearing its peak, Obi-Wan reached down and  
began to caress his Master's cock with his hand. Qui-Gon was  
already reasonably hard, but his apprentice had always been  
somewhat ambitious. Obi-Wan grinned, enjoying the sight of his  
powerfully built Master stretched out, eyes closed, relaxed and  
with his guard down. Enjoying the changes in Qui-Gon's  
breathing as his apprentice held and stroked him. While he  
rubbed Qui-Gon's cock, Obi-Wan used his other hand to play with  
his Master's long, thick hair. He liked the way it looked when  
it was down, luscious fluffy grey hair freed from the band that  
constantly held it back. He idly wondered what his hair would  
be like when he reached Qui-Gon's age. He hoped it would look  
half so good. He examined the catlike features of his Master's  
face--they went well with his greying mane.

Qui-Gon sighed with gratification. "I love you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan smiled. Turning over onto his stomach, he responded,  
"Then take me, Master."

Obi-Wan's face pressed against the mattress as he waited. When  
Qui-Gon began to fuck him, cock wet and slippery, he never  
wanted to be anywhere else. The Jedi Master started off slowly,  
tenderly, careful of his Padawan, but soon began to quicken  
their pace. Damp with sweat, the younger Jedi shifted under his  
Master. He liked making Qui-Gon burn with desire, liked making  
him give up his iron sense of control to the feverish intensity  
of their sex. Obi-Wan was nearing the brink, his erection  
rock-hard and almost bursting, and Qui-Gon, he knew, was going  
to do something about it. Obi-Wan smiled into the mattress, and  
he knew Qui-Gon could feel it.

 

 

The young Jedi sighed with both pleasure and sorrow as he  
remembered. He greatly missed feeling that warm, heavy body  
over his, that slick cock rocking into him gently at first,  
then thrusting into him faster, and harder. He never felt as  
perfect as he did with Qui-Gon's penis inside him, filling him,  
making him whole. The warmth in Qui-Gon's gaze, the passion in  
his eyes, and the love.

Obi-Wan realized abruptly that he was rapidly becoming fully  
erect. He freed his cock from his loose-fitting pants and  
gripped it tightly. His penis was hard, his body slender but  
well-muscled. As he stroked himself, he recalled how safe he'd  
felt in his Master's arms. How good Qui-Gon's hand felt roaming  
his body, memorizing all its lines and curves.

Qui-Gon had known instinctively how to build his Padawan up to  
stunning sexual crescendos. Lost in memory, his hand still  
working his erection, Obi-Wan turned his head to the side in  
pain. Qui-Gon had been such a slow, deliberate, sensual lover.  
How his Padawan had loved to push him past the point of calm  
serenity and control to hungry desperation and hot, fierce sex.  
How at the same time, Qui-Gon would tease his apprentice,  
making Obi-Wan wait, mad with desire. Seeing to it that when he  
came, his orgasm was lingering and impassioned.

Obi-Wan spasmed quickly into his hand; this orgasm was all too  
brief and gave him little concupiscent satisfaction or  
fulfillment. Opening his eyes, it occurred to him that even  
with Anakin with him, he was completely lonely. Obi-Wan closed  
his grey-blue eyes again as he leaned against the wall and wept  
freely.

When he went back into the room and returned to the sleep  
couch, he found Anakin awake and watching him. "Are you  
alright?" whispered his charge.

Anakin, Obi-Wan thought somewhat bitterly, might be the Chosen  
One, but he would never be Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan cared for the boy,  
of course. In truth he had developed a strong affection for his  
apprentice. It was hardly Anakin's fault that Qui-Gon's last  
spoken thoughts had been of Anakin, that there had been no time  
for anything...more. Obi-Wan was grateful that Qui-Gon had hung  
on long enough for those last moments with him, for that last  
touch...and to ask him to train the boy. After all, Qui-Gon did  
believe him to be the Chosen One. Burdening him with the task  
that Qui-Gon would have fulfilled himself was proof enough of  
his Master's significant trust in Obi-Wan.

And he could still feel that last touch, as if it had burned  
him like the red lightsaber had burned his Master. He could  
feel all of Qui-Gon's love in that last touch, that fleeting  
brush of fingers to cheek...

"Are you all right?" his apprentice said again.

Obi-Wan reopened his beautiful but haunted eyes, regarding his  
charge with a heart filled with sadness and vague, elusive  
feelings of fear.

"Yes. Everything will be fine," he told the boy.

But Obi-Wan bent his head in sorrow.

The words felt false.

_____________________

The End

by AK

CalmJedi@hotmail.com

  



End file.
